92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [104]
“Good. Thanks.” Christie sat down on the sofa, sliding to the edge of the cushion, and nervously rubbed her hands.
James returned with Bobby. Her brother-in-law looked terrible. Christie had never seen anyone with less color. Bobby seemed about to collapse.
She got up and walked over to hug him. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she said, although she had no assurance of that.
“Teri’s in pain.”
“I know.”
“But she wouldn’t let the doctors give her anything…”
Christie couldn’t keep from smiling. Knowing her stubborn sister, Teri was probably swearing a blue streak.
Bobby continued, his hands clenched at his sides. “The doctors don’t want anyone in the room but me.”
“I’ll be right outside,” Christie promised. “Just keep me updated, okay?”
Bobby nodded.
“Does Teri want me to call our mother?”
Bobby shook his head. “After, maybe, but not now.”
Christie was in full accord with that decision, although she felt she had to make the offer. Teri hadn’t seen or talked to their mother since Christmas. Neither had Christie, and in her opinion, it was just as well that Ruth had stayed out of the picture.
“Okay,” Christie told him. “Give Teri my love and tell her I’m in the waiting area if she needs anything.”
Bobby nodded again.
“Give her my love, too,” James added.
Bobby hugged Christie, waved at James and returned to the labor room. When he opened the door, Christie heard her sister swearing.
James grinned at her—and, despite herself, Christie smiled back.
They sat in the small waiting room across from each other. In an effort to avoid conversation, Christie picked up a magazine. It sported a Christmas tree on the cover. After flipping idly through the pages, she set it aside and looked at her watch. It was just after three.
When she took a chance and glanced up, she found James studying her. He turned away but not before she caught him.
“What?” she demanded irritably.
“Nothing.”
“Just tell me.” If James had something to say, he might as well spit it out, otherwise they’d both be on edge.
“You don’t want to hear it.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested.”
He shrugged. “Fine. You asked, so I’ll tell you.” His eyes met hers. “I was just thinking how much I love you, how much I wish it was you in that labor room, having our baby.” He looked down at his hands. “I was kicking myself for being such a fool and not realizing what I had with you and how much I regret ruining everything.”
James was right about one thing—she didn’t want to hear it. Men had said almost identical words to her before and she’d wanted to believe them. Then, each time, she’d finally recognized that it had all been a spiel, an attempt to get what they wanted—which was exactly what she’d given them. Christie was determined not to fall victim to her own weakness again.
“I don’t believe you,” she muttered.
His shoulders sank and he looked away. When he spoke again, his voice was sad. “I know.”
After that, neither spoke for what felt like hours. James stood and walked out of the waiting room. Christie felt strangely bereft without his presence. She was afraid he wouldn’t return but about ten minutes later he strolled back, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. He handed her one of them, and she thanked him.
Then Bobby appeared, looking even worse than before. “They say the labor’s not progressing.”
It didn’t seem possible that he could be any paler and yet he was.
“They decided to do a caesarean,” he said next. “They’ve already taken Teri into surgery…I can’t go with her. The doctor said they’re afraid I’ll be in the way.”
“They won’t let you stay with Teri?” The situation must be serious.
“I can wait outside the operating room—but I wanted to let you know what’s happening.”
“Thank you,” Christie whispered. For the first time she was truly afraid for her sister.
Bobby left and she slowly sank back into her chair. James took the one beside her. Again they didn’t speak, but after several minutes he reached for her hand.
Christie knew